Once in a Whirlwind
by SeeASea
Summary: A whirlwind whips up worries and old memories wished to be forgotten in Zephyr Town and two will weather this weather apart and together.
1. Whirlwind Worries

{I was inspired for this fanfiction when I was playing a typhoon day and Ivan mentioned how that kind of whether only brings up painful memories. It got my creative cogs turning! The lines directly below the POV are pulled from nursery rhymes and such and are worked into/work with the story.}

Once in a Whirlwind

{**Gretel **X _Ivan_} Grand Bazaar

**Gretel**

Rain on the green grass; Rain on the tree; Rain on the housetop, But not on me! ~ Rain on the Green Grass

**The trees swayed and bowed beneath the strong and sorrowfully howling wind as I peeped out the door, trying with all my might to keep it from snapping open and bracing myself against the gusts and rain coming from the crying sky. A tree branch with leaves fluttering like the pages of a book swung in front of my vision, and I slammed the front door closed.**

**Hurrying over to the barn, I reveled in the warmth and slight stuffiness of the black-and-white, pink-and-fluffy, and cream-and-feathered bodies that shuffled around the hay strewn floor. My dogs and cats loitered around a little helplessly without their morning employment, so I ruffled their furry ears and told them to go play in the house, tossing the cat bell and dog bone. My two years and a half in Zephyr Town had seen this room fill up with livestock and my own joy in taking care of them. **

**So, after saying hello to all of my animals, tossing fodder and feed into troughs and platforms, and collecting valuable produce, I sat down on the fence separating the chickens from the hooves and let myself take it all in. More than one field filled with plants that I prayed wouldn't be demolished, a barn with a slightly leaky roof which I willed to hold, a large bazaar stall which I hoped would stay pristine under the flapping threadbare blanket, a house with drafty windows which I crossed my fingers wouldn't let in the torrential rain, and a determination to stay on this farm which I loved and cared for that no typhoon could blow over.**

**THUD!**

**I fell backward with a yelp and landed on scattered chicken feed and stone, almost crushing Pearl in a flurry of feathers. What had that been?! Another THUD! Leaping to my feet and barreling towards the barn door, I quickly assessed the farmland in view. I shivered… those noises always made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I knew I would have to go outside and make my usual rounds in the unusual weather, checking up on things. Straightening my shoulders, I tried to put on a defiant smile.**

**Whoosh… Whoosh… THUD! Whoosh… OoooooooooooOoooooooooooo… Creak…**

**I was instantly soaked, greeted by the typhoon just outside. It tugged at my bonnet and my hand flew to the back of my head, holding it on with its precious cargo of feather flourishes. I tucked the feathers into the ribbon I had fashioned around it. Shielding my eyes, I took surveys of my drenched fields and fought against the wind, which tore at my clothes and my legs and attempted vainly to pull me back. Persevering in my effort to collect plump pumpkins that were ready for picking, I hurried to my storage bin and put in all of my produce from the morning. A rock flew just past my knee, and I whipped around into the wind to make sure nothing else was coming. All clear. **

**For now. **

**Then on to the waterfall…**


	2. Weathered Feelings

_Ivan_

The north wind doth blow, And we shall have snow, And what will poor robin do then, Poor thing? He'll sit in a barn, And keep himself warm, And hide his head under his wing, Poor thing. ~ The North Wind Doth Blow

_OoooooooooOoooOoooooooooo… Whoosh… Creak… THUD! THUD!_

_The moans and groans of the wind and woods along with the clatter and batter of shutters and debris provided the music for the morning. As I edged around my fried eggs and my grip tightened on the fork with each howl of the hurricane, Dirk sat across the table watching me. He knew I could hardly ever handle these days, although I couldn't be sure if he knew why. He was fine with them though, looking forward to the next day so he could go out again and see the ruffled up and recovering world, while unfettered of the memories that attached themselves to storms for me. _

_"Do you remember when I was younger and we were on our own and you used to sing 'Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Little brother wants to play'?" Dirk chuckled and picked up his breakfast china boisterously, "Well, little brother certainly does want to play. Kevin and I were going to go bug hunting to pull pranks, but now we're the ones caged up."_

_I smiled, passing him my half-eaten food, and as I stood up and began to help him wash, dry, and put away, I recalled Dirk as a twelve-year-old, his sunny disposition just a little shadowed by storm clouds, "You were always bright and cheerful anyway. The rain never dared to stay more than a day."_

_"You bet it didn't!" Dirk grinned, turning towards the kitchen window and shaking a suds covered fist, "You here that rain, little brother wants to play!"_

_As I carefully set up mother's china in the cabinet and Dirk shoved frying pans and pots onto the shelf he started to hum the tune to the nursery rhyme. I froze in place, leaning over a stack of juice glasses, and even as Dirk off-handedly said he was going to take a nap and left, I remained stuck. "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day…"_

_I hastily took the glasses in my hands and placed them in their spots, and then gently closed the cabinet doors. Leaning on the granite counter, cold and unforgiving to my palms, I took in the smash of rain on the window panes, the thuds and rumbles of trees and boulders and debris falling and flying, the sobs of the wind, and tightened my grip. "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day… come again another day…"_

_The tune Dirk used, the tune sounded just like father, just like father as he would hum it in my ear as he held me up to the too-tall window and fogged the glass for my small fingers to paint pictures on. And mother, her voice, crystal clear as the glasses I had just put away, "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Little Ivan wants to play…"_

_THUD! OoooooooOooooooooo… Whoosh… Whoosh…_

_And what could I do on these days? What could I do to get away from their connotations? Flying over to the parlor, I looked at the bookshelves for some land to escape to, some other time in history, some fictional place that held less pain and less sorrow. I could feel myself bending to the will of these days. All of the books, my books, my father's books. I blindly picked a spine of a book, green and gold, and walked to the leather sofa, wondering if this storm I would actually see the pages. I sank into the soft old cushions, feeling sweat prickle the back of my neck along my collar._

_The windows, streaked with rain and summer leaves sticking to the panes, might as well have had bars on them. Nothing could bait me away from the memories that would be swept up in the whirlwind. THUD! Whoosh…_

_I peeped over the book which I hadn't opened and noticed the fire was getting low. Hurtling up and distracting myself by placing on new branches and stoking the fire, I tried to absorb the warmth as best I could, kindle something new for these days than isolating cold. Because I never told Dirk why I got this way in hurricanes, and he partially knew anyway; he never let what had happened get to him. I drew my waistcoat around me._

_Instead of returning to the cold leather cushions, I settled down in front of the fire. I cracked open the novel I had selected, and I let out a quiet cry: it was a family photo album, and the first page was a picture of the four of us. It was rainy that day, and mother had told me, "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Little Ivan wants to play!"_


	3. Flying Fears

**Gretel**

The wind came a-whooping, down Cranberry Hill And stole an umbrella from, Mother Medill. It picked up a paper on Patterson's place And carried it clean to the Rockaby Race. And what was more shocking and awful than that, It blew the new feather off grandmother's hat. ~The Wind

**When the weather got like this in Zephyr Town there was always a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach, which would stay there like ice until the last gust gusted itself clean out. Even though things had held together so far, and even though I always pushed past hurricanes and blizzards, the extremes made me fear for the farm I had built up and the world I had invested myself in. I couldn't rest until I knew my neighbors were okay. **

**The waterfall gushed torrentially down upon the river and caused the normally clam water to be stirred up into a sediment-tinted tan. What was settled on ordinary days all visible, just like the patches that seemed fine on sunny days seemed all too weak against storm force winds… Multiple frogs jumped for cover as I made my way towards town, and I grabbed a few to cage for Antoinette. It was a Wednesday, and Lloyd would be safe in the city. A poisonous mushroom or two had sprouted up in the pristine path, and I picked them carefully, hoping to put them to good use.**

**OooooooooOooooooooooooooo… Whoosh, THUD!**

**Anything that seemed harsh from indoors was exponentially worse when actually exposed to it. The rain slapped and stabbed me wherever I faced it and the wind and leaves attempted to completely compromise my sight. A paper or two I recognized as the café's menu and Raul's special sales fluttered by in a flurry. I made a mental note to make sure both of those neighbors had everything under control. A blue shutter tumbled past me on the grass, and I felt the chill expand within me, like an icicle growing with dripping cold sweat. Must check on Antoinette and her father and tell them about the shutter. I watched it as it raced past me, and then it took flight and hurtled far away, past the racetrack.**

**As I crossed into town I slipped on the cobblestone path and scuffed my knees. Biting my lip, I pushed myself up and jumped across the river, hurtling with the extra push of the wind and feeling something jagged wedge itself in between myself and my hand on my purse strap. Before I knew it I had wiped out on the pavement in front of the café. I had thought I was getting better at storm-jumping than that acrobat performance!**

**Getting up once again, I wiped the grit off of my clothes and flew into the café, finding the warmth and the dry, still air eccentric and comforting. Sighing in relief, I watched Joan and Marian rush out from their rooms in the back, shock plastered on their faces. **

**"Gretel! I've told you before, YOU SHOULDN'T COME OUT IN STORMS!" Joan scolded, hurrying to me and looking me up and down for cuts and scrapes. I could remember Dirk telling me that Joan was scary when she was mad and smiled, but in this case I think she was more scared than scary.**

**Marian just shook her head and gave me an understanding look. She made up a quick tea and as Joan forced me into a chair and shoved a towel under me to stop me from dripping on the floors she served it to me. I defended myself, "You know I just want to make sure everyone's weathering the storm okay! What if a tree had struck your roof? Or anyone's roof? I could use my farm supplies to help, but if I just stayed inside I would never know and could never help!"**

**"You're very generous Gretel, and we love you in Zephyr Town for that, but for heaven's sake don't be a martyr! You've done plenty for us already! And what would we do if you and your farm supplies blew away in the wind outside?!" Joan's gaze was suddenly caught on my side. She hmph-ed and clucked her tongue, then pulled a maroon shingle from underneath my bag's strap. She considered it pensively and then, noticing the growing fear spreading across my face and within me, said, "Now don't you get upset just yet, don't just run out of here."**

**THUD! I jumped up from my seat, feeling numb at the sight of that shingle with the bit of roof underneath it. It looked like the shingle had been clipped by something, and THUD! I shivered and looked frantically toward the door. Ivan and Dirk's house! I could check Freya's house as I passed and then see how she was inside later.**

**Marian put a hand on my shoulder and gently shoved me back onto my chair, making me drink my tea, "I know that anything bad with those two gets you upset, but please take a moment and think. You're so rational and prudent with your farm, but not with storms!"**

**I interjected here, "You don't understand! And how could you compare a peaceful farming day with a hurricane?!" Then I slapped my hand to my mouth and said, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to be rude."**

**"No offense taken," Marian said softly, giving me a calming smile, "But just think: it's just a shingle, it's not as though you saw their entire roof fly by before your eyes. It's probably fine and you're probably just overreacting."**

**"But I think I'll continue to check up on everyone anyway, alright?" I said, feeling urgency surge through my system. I stood up and even though they looked disapproving they knew there was nothing they could do. They had seen me on bazaar days selling hard and ringing the bell on and on, so they knew my persistence-perhaps doggedness. "I'll be careful, I promise. Thank you for the tea, and for your advice. Both were good as always!"**

**After giving them quick hugs, trying not to soak them in the process, I slipped out the door and back into the fray. Suddenly my bonnet was picked up from my head! I yelped and saw it tumble on the ground, catching on one of the café's outdoor tables. I dove for it and grabbed it just as the wind started to carry it off. I watched in dismay as a feather from the ribbon grew smaller and smaller into the gray clouds. I had no idea of knowing which one it was, the newer or the older, as I fastened my bonnet firmly on my head.**

**Now to get to Ivan and Dirk's house! Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; And please let them be okay!**


	4. Lightening Losses

(Author's Note: A small warning, this chapter contains scenes describing the deaths of Ivan and Dirk's parents, and while not particularly graphic, I just wanted to give a heads up.)

* * *

_Ivan_

It's raining, it's pouring; The old man is snoring. Bumped his head And he went to bed And he couldn't get up in the morning. Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Little Johnny wants to play. ~It's Raining, It's Pouring

_The rain streaked down the window panes as a tear or two streaked down my cheeks. I hastily wiped them away, and then closed the photo album, pressed it up against my chest, and curled myself around it, head down and knees up. Every gust pressing upon the walls and bending the trees was a sweep of feeling bending my will._

_A boy, just ten, running from his seat nestled in soft and pleasant cushions where he had been reading of adventures and heroes and distant lands, his grin slipping and falling from his cheeks as he hears the strange, unaware groans. He peeks from behind the doorway and sees only his mother's wet rustling gown whisking by, the stooped figure she was holding up. Numbness grabs hold of him as he sees his father's light brown hair matted with red, not quite knowing but feeling something wrong. The sound of the bed springs landed upon and his mother bursting through the doorway, spotting her small son, standing blank in the hallway. He may or may not have heard the words, but he ran and ran and ran and ran through the rough rain and wind until he got to a neighbor's house, and they picked him up and they returned. He was dropped in the hallway, and he deafly, mutely followed, seeing a few specks of red on the floor and seeing his father on the bed, being vainly cared for. Whoooooooooosh… Groan, oooooooooo…. THUD! Oooooooo…_

_I tried to shield the photo album from the tears that slipped from my eyes, remembering the water splashing from the mother's chin, the child's face, the sounds of the other son's sobs from the other room. My mother's chin, my face, barely seven year old Dirk's sobs, unconnected but still present. My sleeves were drenched, and I wasn't even in the rain._

_The boy drifted to his mother's side, gripping her gown with childish need, and she knelt down and embraced him, encompassing all of his grief in her own. She smoothed his hair, she squeezed him tightly, she whispered prayers and he whimpered with her. She picked him up, took him to his bedroom, tucked him into the comforter and sheets and warmth, kissed his forehead, told him not to worry, father had just bumped his head. _

_I stifled a sob and wiped my wet eyes, remembering waking up and not seeing him at the breakfast table. And she sat me down, put Dirk next to me, and, kneeling down in front of the sofa, told us solemnly, and full of a strength that surprised and awed me now, that father had taken a fall when he was helping to cover the construction on one of those windmills that he engineered, that pretty one right down by the river and hotel, and that even though our friends tried their best they couldn't help. But father was fine, he was happy where he was and we would see him again someday, but not for a long time. He was always watching over us though, he was still with us in the way he could be. And her shoulders caught our tears when she held us again. And our shoulders caught hers. _

_The blades of the windmill, I listened to them everyday I stood by the water, feeling it take the breeze and gust and use it, soften it as it hit my back. Father… You're still with me, I know it. I…_

_The fire popped loudly, and I jumped in my curled posture. I looked up through watery eyes, and I knew my reveries were far from over. Whooooosh… THUD! OooooooOooooooooo…_

_Mother returned from the outside that day a few years later, soaked and shivering. She had been helping deliver a little boy with the mother of the twins, and had braved the typhoon to go out and help. Her own little boy, older now, had been helping to teach his little brother a few math problems. He saw her come in and jumped from the chair, hurrying to her and holding her close. She was chill to the bone, and her face was icy pale. She could barely speak through chattering teeth that she needed something warm, and so he directed his little brother to get blankets and set her in front of the fire while he started tea._

_My teeth chattered as I looked into the fireplace, quickly grabbing a twig and tossing it in so the blaze would become warmer. The rain strengthened on the roof, sounding almost as if each drop would bore a hole into the shingles._

_The boy held his mother's hand, chaffing it and breathing small puffs of hot air onto her fingers, but nothing would warm her. Her eyes conveyed him to get someone, and so he ran and ran and ran and ran again, and he found a neighbor, and they came and he stayed this time, helping and warming and running to get what the neighbor asked. And the weather got finer but she was still in bed, and then it was very quiet, so it was only the Whoooooosh… Ooooooooooo… THUD! THUD! of the next storm that rung in his ears._

_The deafening silence! The emptiness where she had been! To the boy, it was almost unbearable, because he remembered so steadfastly his first loss, and now, to be an orphan! And his younger brother felt it too, and he embraced the small boy and encompassed Dirk's grief in his own. And he was old enough to raise him, he was old enough to take on the responsibility, but he worried whether he was doing anything right with no paternal, no maternal hand to guide him as he grew—as I grew-_

_A drop of water plopped onto my head and I looked up, bewildered. Just as suddenly came a voice, "Ivan?! Dirk?!"_


	5. Rain or Shine

Gretel & Ivan

Whether the weather be fine, Or whether the weather be not, Whether the weather be cold, Or whether the weather be hot, We'll weather the weather Whatever the weather, Whether we like it or not!

Gretel held her bonnet firmly in her shaking hands as her eyes flung around the rooms visible from the door she had just closed. It seemed like there was no damage, and she heaved a trembling sigh of relief. However, her ears strained to hear some salutation, and she called again, "Ivan? Dirk?"

Ivan stumbled to standing, looking through blurry and red eyes towards the door, and croaked, "Gretel?" Another teardrop of rain patted on his head, and he looked quizzically from the ceiling, which looked off color, to Gretel, who had mysteriously appeared amid his recollections. She seemed so perfectly out of place and at the same time so perfectly appropriate there.

Seeing the water dripping from the hem of her skirt to the floor, he hurried over, offered to take her hat and ran to the hallway with it still dripping in his hand. He came back with an armful of towels and generously heaped them over her, "What on earth are you doing here, Gretel! You're positively pallid like a ghost!"

Gretel grumbled, "You're not going to give me a scolding like everyone else, you hear!" Ivan's eyebrows shot up, and she knew that he would never have thought of it. Her tough expression softened and she began to squeeze her skirt and her sleeves in the fluffy towels, "You know how I am."

He smiled, "I know how you are."

He seemed to understand. He was the only one she did not have to fight against… It was almost as though he knew how she felt, she mulled. He didn't seem to want an explanation, but she felt she could give him the full one. And today, her heart was a little to flooded to simply let her thoughts sit and simmer. The weight was unbearable.

"Please, come over to the fire where it is warmer. Dirk is taking a cat nap in his room, but I've been here tending the hearth. You are a most welcome distraction!" Gretel caught the catch in his voice.

She settled in her nest of towels before the blaze and listened to the wind howl, whipping through the branches of the trees on the fringes of town. Ivan cleared his throat and asked for one of the towels. She laughed as he settled it in a little puddle on the floor, "I picked up one of your shingles along the way here and it nearly gave me a heart attack! Here it is. Your roof doesn't look too worse for wear, though, so rest easy."

Ivan grabbed a blanket and the two leaned back, bundles against the encroaching chill and rain and raging storm.

Ooooooooh... Whooosh... THUD.

"Ivan… do you know I'm afraid of storms."

"You? Afraid of storms?" He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. When he opened them, Gretel was gazing at the soft tongues of flame peeking through the branches in the fireplace. Her eyes were wide open, vulnerable, looking not at what was in front of her but on something else entirely... something from the past.

"Terrified." Gretel paused, pulling her legs under her and swaddling herself just a bit more tightly, "I came here after a storm took away my old life. I lived on an island and what the wind didn't take, the tide did. I was devastated. And I saw my neighbors missing or leaving, without a trace of their old lives… And I was young, I had plenty of time yet to make memories, I had barely any keepsakes before the storm… but they didn't. Their lives were there."

THUD. The pair jumped.

"I… I was lost for a long time. I didn't have a home and I had barely a cent to my name. I had a few bags of seeds from the store I used to run on the island, the clothes on my back... We thought about rebuilding some, but most of us just left. I've heard that the island is thriving once again... but at that moment, I needed to make a life where I could begin to make something last. And then the wind carried word of Zephyr Town. And then I moved here. And I met all of you wonderful people. I met you." Gretel paused to keep her words from wobbling and her eyes dry, "And I can't imagine the same thing happening here. Not here. Not to these people I love."

Ivan kept his eyes on the fire, "You're so strong, Gretel. You've made the life you wanted then. What you have here will last."

She smiled beneath the hand she had pressed to her face, "You think so?"

Ivan reached out and put his arm around her shoulders, "I know so. Even if the wind takes every shingle in Zephyr Town, we'll all still be here and you'll still have everything that really matters. You're very loved here. I know so... I know so..."

Heat rushed into his cheeks when he felt her rest her head on his shoulder. As they sat, listening to the fire pop and the rain patter, he began to tell her why he always said he hated stormy weather. It was not a long explanation, it was not an overly emotional one, but just letting some of the pressure of this long kept pain was cathartic. She held his hand tightly underneath the towels they had nested in, two birds battered by storms but still able to fly, still willing, no longer waiting.

The clock struck the noon hour, and Gretel explained that she had to go on. Ivan nodded, and she was grateful. "Hold on, let me get your hat… I put it down here somewhere…"

As Ivan plucked the hat from its perch on a stack of towels, a bit misshapen from its time on the hall coatrack, a feather fluttered off the brim. While the bonnet had dried oddly, the feather seemed to shine only more brightly than when Gretel had first acquired it. Now her eyes were wider than they were then, wide with panic. Ivan had seen it too and picked it up before it truly dawned on him what he held. With many halts, he raised his eyes to her.

Gretel cracked a sheepish smile, her hands nervously folding one of the towels she had been sitting on. The question in Ivan's eyes received a bobbled nod from her blond head, and suddenly she found herself swept up in a warm embrace. She squeezed him back just as tightly, and water that had persisted in her clothes began to soak his own and drip onto the floor. She let out a happy sigh and then a brilliant laugh, and he did too.

Dirk appeared in the door rubbing his eyes with one hand and trying to make sense of his bed head with the other. Shaking his head with a knowing smile, he announced, "You two look awfully sunny for the state of things outside." The couple jumped apart in surprise, but they couldn't wipe away the grins on their faces. Dirk chuckled, turning on his heel to the kitchen so he could cook up something warm, "But then again, come rain or shine, you two will always be right as rain together!"


End file.
